Ritual

Check it out: I am convinced that my cat doesn’t eat a lot because he is - as always - trying to exactly like me; trying to emulate me as if I was some sort of role model: he constantly follows me around, gazing at hallucinatory miscalculations - those which consist of rules which regard an insignificant emblem of his feline perceptivity, but back to his behavior - what the hell? I ascertain nothing. Among other many other perplexing and rebellious behaviors, he will not, under any circumstances, eat his “little tiny-expensive-so-he-will-live-damnit!” food unless his beloved Me is in the room. Right now, as I address you, he sits aloft my computer monitor, pretending that he is absolutely aloof to my presence… But I am catching on to his deceptive little feline games! He is unaware that I am aware of him following me everyplace that I wander, faithfully and consistently. He takes his own little precise kitty time, catches up to me, plunks down within millimeters of me, and pretends lik

I would enjoy listening to a good story about my first encounter with JJ. I ran into her with a slightly charming eye contact thing I had been working on, and then she certainly fell in love with me. "Everyone is in love with you," she dared to tell me a few times with out a trace of sarcasm or other means of most dignified deception for any reason whatsoever, so I began to believe her after seven or eight years, and a few days later, I asked her if she could back that up. She hasn't spoken about it since, and I am beginning to get suspiciously bored with the concept altogether. So I forgave myself after she beat me at ice hockey and psychological meanderings. We are pretty ridiciously luck, we say to ourselves.